


From the Ashes

by titC



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Awesome Linda, F/M, Gen, Mending, Sad dan, flightless bird's eye view deckerstar, no wedding but a funeral, the waffle ship that sank down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 09:16:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15167492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titC/pseuds/titC
Summary: you are dust, and to dust you shall return.(Genesis 3:19)Dealing with the aftermath of 3x23 and 3x24, and as Michael Stipe sang:"Everybody hurts,Take comfort in your friends [...]If you feel like you're aloneNo, no, no, you're not alone"See? Angst, then not :-)





	From the Ashes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BurningUpASunJustToSayHello](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurningUpASunJustToSayHello/gifts), [PixelByPixel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PixelByPixel/gifts).



> Big thanks to PixelByPixel and BurningUpASunJustToSayHello who held my hand while i was dramatically moaning about writing (or trying to). Now it's thrown to the wolves and we can all put it behind us ;-)
> 
> Hover over the Spanish words for a translation.

When Dan’s marriage to Chloe had broken down, he’d been sad, of course. Disappointed. He’d missed what they’d had; he’d missed the effortless simplicity and casual touches and knowing they had each other and all the things you only realized you’d had once you didn’t have them anymore. He hadn’t seen their marriage’s slow disintegration happen, and then it was just too late.

But with Charlotte… it was different. It hurt more, in a way; but maybe it was because her… her death, was still so new, so raw. They’d never even had a chance. He couldn’t help thinking of what could have been, with her. Of what their shared memories would have felt like a few years down the road after finding their own little routine, founding their own little world. Imperfect, trying to be better. That’s who they’d been. They could have made it, really. They could have gone on weekends with the kids, smiled at each other over case files open on a table, planned something more, perhaps. Have waffles weekends.

But she was gone, and he had to find a way to deal with so much. Too much.

It was a new day, and he should get out of the shower, put on his holster and his badge and his jacket, and go to work. The precinct was still dealing with the fallout of last week’s apocalypse, but crimes still happened and he’d chosen to work those regular cases instead of staying home and losing himself in his grief. At least he could pretend to be useful, there.

Grab the car keys, drive on automatic, make a detour to the Homicide division coffee corner. Charlotte’s favorite mug was still there on the counter. He turned on his heel and went to bury himself in files.

 

There was someone in front of his desk. He could feel them, even if he didn’t know who it was. He could see their shadow on his file. It wasn’t Chloe, she was still on leave; and the shadow was too short to be – it was Ella.

“Sup,” Dan said.

She opened and closed her mouth a few times without saying anything, which was very un-Ella-like. “Wanna take a break?” she finally asked.

“Uh?”

“It’s lunch time, and you haven’t looked up from this stuff for hours, and you need a break. Because of… stuff.”

“Stuff,” he repeated.

“You know.”

“Ella – ”

“No, I mean it! You, we can’t bury it.” She winced. The funeral was in two days. “Look, I’m going to Father Ash Mwangi’s church over my lunch break. It’s real quiet, he’s nice, he’ll listen if you want to talk or just shut up, and he always has coffee and donuts.”

“A church? You want me to go to _a church_? I thought you and the big guy were on rocky grounds these days.”

“We are, but it doesn’t mean people of faith are at fault themselves, you know? Some of us have a therapist, some have a priest. Just, someone who listens and doesn’t judge. Even when you’re a car thief.” She winked at him, but it felt forced. Everything felt forced these days, and he didn’t blame her.

Maybe he could go? At least there would be coffee and donuts, so there was that. He ran on either nothing or empty calories these days, but useless carbs were probably better than _nada_.

 

The church was small and unassuming on the outside; a few palm trees were swinging gently in the breeze and the beaten earth courtyard was tidy and welcoming. Dan parked near the only other car he could see, and they made their way to the door. Coffee, he thought. Donuts. Coffee. No talking, no soul searching, just coffee under a palm tree and – loud organ music stopped them in their tracks as soon as they pushed the door open.

“What the…?”

“Ella!” A tall black man waved to them from a door to the side. “Ella, I’m so glad you’re here!”

“What’s happening?” she shouted back at him.

“Someone’s locked themselves up there and they’ve been playing for hours, since before I got here this morning and maybe even last night… I don’t know what do do!”

So much for a quiet break. Dan sighed. “Who has a key to this door?”

“Me and Fernanda, our usual organist. I had her on the phone, it’s not her up there, and I don’t even know how anyone could have been playing for hours and – please help!” Father Ash’s voice was raspy like he’d been yelling for a while, presumably at whoever had hijacked the organ.

“If by ‘help’ you mean do some lockpicking, sure can do,” Ella said. Dan made an ‘it’s all yours’ gesture at her, and she went to town on the lock. Former car thief who always carried around burglar’s tools, eh.

It didn’t take her long to open the door, and the three of them rushed up the narrow, spiral staircase.

“Fuck,” Dan said. He knew that straight back, those tight shoulders.

It was, unmistakably, Lucifer – of course it was. And then he turned away from the organ, looked at them with a snarl, and his eyes were red. _His eyes were red_. _Fuck my life,_ Dan thought.

“Who are – oh, it’s you,” Lucifer mumbled and blinked and deflated. The sudden silence was disorienting.

“Dude,” Dan managed. The eyes had faded back to brown, but he couldn’t unsee them. Chloe had told him how she’d reacted even though she’d expected it; and like her he hadn’t been prepared for the reality of it. But he was definitely not freaking out. Abso-fucking-lutely not him. Dan the man, cool as a cucumber. A surfing cucumber, even.

“Hey, Lucifer; you’re back!” Ella was already walking to him – or rather trying to, because father Ash had a hand around her biceps.

“That's… that’s…”

“It’s Lucifer! I mean yeah, sure, like Lucifer-Lucifer, but he’s a good guy! We’re friends!”

“Ella, he’s… in my church!” The priest’s voice was somewhere between indignant and terrified. “Holy sh… how is he in my church?”

“Well, technically it’s not _your_ church,” Lucifer rasped as he made to stand up and promptly fell back on the bench with a grunt.

Dan finally processed the rest of what was in from of him. “Dude,” he repeated more firmly. “Where are your shoes?”

 

Lord of Hell (Retired) or not Lucifer was shaky and unwell an looked like he could faint at any moment, and Dan felt like he should have seen it sooner, red eyes or not. He was a Homicide detective, for go – Pete’s sake. ( _Pete’_ _s sake_ was a safe thing to say, right? He’d have to ask. At some point. Not now. Now, he was on his lunch break and… ah, fuck his life. Again.) He was used to recognizing the signs, trained to help and also get answers. Exhaustion, maybe shock…

“Hey Padre, do you have a first-aid kit?”

Father Ash shuddered and finally looked away from Lucifer, who was still staring into space as he’d been since he’d found himself unable to stand. “I… do? I do. I’ll go get it,” he said before hurrying down the stairs.

Ella sat on the floor and Dan kept hovering and not knowing what to do and generally feeling useless and empty, as he had since that night on the hill while he’d held Charlotte’s already-cold body. Lucifer’s eyes were unfocused, he was paler than usual and his breathing was rapid and shallow. Now he was facing them, a few bruises and cuts were visible on his face. There were probably a few more under his pristine shirt. The worst, though, were his feet. They looked like he’d walked over very sharp, very hot stones for hours.

“Hey big guy, we’re here, okay? Dan and me? We’re here with you. You’re hurt, that’s why you can’t walk, but we’re going to clean those burns and cuts and it’ll help, all right?” There was absolutely no sign her words were getting through. “I’m going to have to touch you though, is that okay?”

Father Ash walked back in and stopped beside Dan, a box in one hand, a bowl of water in the other and a couple towels over his arms. “He hasn’t moved?”

“Nah.”

“I can’t really believe…”

“Yeah, I get it. I’m not really sure I do myself. But really, what I can tell you is that he sure is a pain in the ass but not, you know.”

“I think I do, yeah.” He handed Ella what he’d brought. “Hijacking the organ, then a mental breakdown.”

“He actually sees – hey, we should call Linda, right? Linda’s his therapist.”

The priest blinked. “Satan… has a therapist.”

“Yep.”

“Holy… cow.”

“Yeah.” Really, thinking about this stuff was like looking at the sun: just don’t, or you’ll lose it. That’s how Dan was playing it, anyway. “Linda’s a saint. When she’s not drunk, that is.”

Ella laughed a little. “Accurate. Ok, I just texted her. You’re right, she would be able to help. Hey Lucifer, we’re going to work on your injuries now, all right?”

“Is it safe to risk surprising, well, _him_?” Father Ash looked worried.

“He wouldn’t hurt a fly!”

“Unless the fly threatened…” Dan and Ella exchanged a glance.

“Have you tried any of the devil’s other names?”

“What, like Satan?” The priest shrugged. “Well, fine, it’s worth a try.” Dan crossed his arms. “Hey, why didn’t you choose Satan Morningstar as your name here?” No reaction.

“And why do you hate it when I call you Luce?” Still nothing. “Damn, I’d hoped that would work.” Ella looked disappointed.

“Okay, um. Why not his original name?” Father Ash bent a little to face Lucifer. “Your father called you Samael, why not keep it?”

Well, that sure worked, Dan thought from the floor. There had been a great gust of wind, and all three had ended up blinking at the ceiling while Lucifer wheezed and shivered on the bench and a few small feathers drifted down. Dan sat up and looked at definitely-not-Samael, nope, not him. His skin was blotchy and looked clammy, but he was back with them. “That is not my name.”

“Yes it is.”

“That is not my name _anymore_. Samael is dead, he is ashes he is dust he is…” A coughing fit interrupted him.

“That’s fine. We’re just glad you’re here now.” Ella cracked her knuckles. “I’m going to clean your feet now, is that okay?”

“My feet?”

“Lucifer, you look like you hiked on lava and fought a horde of demons while there.” Dan shut his mouth. Maybe that actually happened. Shit.

“Well. Not entirely inaccurate, Daniel.” _Shit_.

He jumped when Ella took one foot in her hands, but let her examine it to her heart’s content. “Looks like there’s… gravel, mostly? maybe other stuff? embedded in there. We’ll remove it, then clean and bandage, all right? Maybe some burn cream too?”

“But…”

“But what?”

“I’ll heal.”

“You’re not healed _now_.”

“And I really don’t want to carry you down those stairs because you can’t walk. How did you even get here, man?” Seriously, he couldn’t even have driven with those wounds.

“Did you _fly_ to my church?” Father Ash was holding a tiny, fluffy feather in his hand.

Lucifer smirked. “You should work for the LAPD, padre. Ow!”

“Yeah, sorry, had to dig a little for that one.”

“That’s alright, Ms Lopez. You just surprised me.”

“Can you really fly, though?”

“That’s what the bloody things are for, Daniel.”

“Jerk.” Lucifer’s lips twitched. “I mean, you just shed some feathers – are you even supposed to shed? – and they’re not looking very good.” The one Father Ash was inspecting was broken, and the two that Dan himself had almost swallowed earlier had rust-brown specks all over them. Ew.

“I do not shed. I am not a dog.”

“You do follow Chloe around like a puppy though.” Fuck, he shouldn’t have said that, Lucifer was about as self-aware as a rock at times; and Dan didn’t have Linda’s fortitude or Chloe’s patience to deal with him. Anyway, now was not the time to talk about that, right?

But Lucifer didn’t blow up. Maybe he was just too wrung out. “How is the Detective? And the spawn?”

“They’re fine.”

“Oh. Good.”

“Thanks to you.”

Lucifer looked away. “She wouldn't have been in danger if it hadn’t been for me,” he mumbled.

“Who’s Chloe?” the priest asked.

“My ex-wife,” Dan answered as Ella said, “Lucifer’s partner.”

Well, that was slightly awkward. Father Ash looked like he already regretted asking the question.

“They work together at the precinct. Solving crimes. Work partners. They solve crimes. That kind of partners.” Dan wondered if he was already gnawing on his knee by now. He’d already eaten the foot in his mouth at any rate.

“She also dumped Actual Cain for Lucifer, so there’s that,” Ella added as she ran a soaked towel over the second foot. The fabric was already streaked with dried blood and dirt.

“And then I… well.” He was listing more and more to the side, and Dan caught him just before he slid off the bench and helped him to the floor. “Ah. Thank you.”

He’d also caught his wince when he grabbed his arm. “Are you hurt there too?” Lucifer shrugged. “Fine, I’ll take off your shirt. Don’t say it – really, don’t.” Dan would have been more reassured if he _had_ said it, but he didn’t. His eyes were only two slits, and losing the battle. “Hey, stay awake, will you?” His only answer was a small humming sound.

The priest helped him manhandle Lucifer out of the shirt and yes, under a sloppily tied bandage they found an ugly-looking cut, inflamed and still oozing. “What happened to him?”

“S’old news. Hell-forg’d knf.” He didn’t open his eyes.

“Doesn't look too good,” Ella said. She tried to clean it, but it kept slowly leaking some mixture of blood and, and yuck.

“I may have something,” Father Ash said. He went back down the stairs and came back with a blanket and another bowl. “So, he’s still an angel of the Lord, right?”

“Wrong,” Lucifer mumbled. “Dev’l.”

“Who’s a fallen angel. Shut up, Lucifer, we’re saving you.” Damn, it felt good to say. “So what did you bring?”

Father Ash didn’t answer, and simply poured some water on the wound. It foamed white for a moment, then washed away to reveal a thin white scar where a moment ago there had been a gash.

“Oh wow, that’s a brilliant idea!” Ella poked at the scar. “Holy water against hell wounds, that’s real clever!”

“I watched _Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade_ a lot when I was a kid,” he said. “Gave me the idea.”

Lucifer made a grumpy sound (somewhere between ‘upset but sleepy kitten’ and ‘dying car engine’) and briefly glared (red) daggers at the priest, but otherwise kept silent.

“I think you broke Satan,” Dan said.

“Well. I’m ordained to serve the Lord our Father and help all those in need,” Father Ash said primly as he shook the blanket out and let it fall over Lucifer. “Even if they hate me for it. And I’m not carrying him down those stairs, my chiropractor would kill me.”

Ella tucked the foot under the blanket and patted it. “There, I’m finished. We’re lucky he’s mostly out for the count now.” She stood up. “You know, he’s touchy about some things.”

“What things?”

“It’s a long story, father. And a long list.”

“I’d say it’s an education.”

“That too,” Dan said.

Father Ash picked up the dirty towels and tilted his head. “So I know it’s not even 2, but who’s up for a beer? Got some in the fridge.”

“Fuck yeah,” Dan answered.

 

Once they’d washed the bowls and put the first aid kit away, they sat around the table in the little kitchenette with their beers.

“So, the devil lives in LA, he works with the police when he’s not playing the piano in his own nightclub, he has a therapist and he’s conked out upstairs in my church. Holy – wow.” Father Ash drained half of his beer in one go.

“He’s really sweet, you know.”

“Sweet. The Adversary. Sweet.”

“Ella, he called me the Douche for months!”

“Aw, but you’re best buds now.” Dan scowled at his own bottle. “You like the same movies! And you took his brother to improv!”

“His… brother?”

“Yeah, Amenadiel. He’s… Fuck, he’s an angel, I guess. I had an angel do improv. He sucked at it, by the way.” That was a funny memory now, if horribly awkward when it happened.

“Well, I took Lucifer to mass, so.”

“You what?”

“I helped him, and in exchange I asked that he came to a service with me.”

“And he _did_?”

“Dragged his feet and complained all the way but yeah, he did.”

“I am rethinking everything I ever thought I knew,” father Ash said.

Ella’s phone buzzed. “That’s Linda, she’ll be here soon. I’ll tell her where to find us.”

“She’s sort of everyone’s therapist now. I mean, who else is going to believe all of this?” Dan considered starting on another beer, then remembered he was supposed to go back to the precinct sooner rather than later. No one would blame him if he didn’t, he knew half the officers expected him to start punching suspects any day now; but he wouldn’t. He _wouldn’t_. Anyway, the last time he got smashed on an extended lunch break had been with Charlotte and, yeah. He started peeling the label off his bottle. “Anyway, she’s good. Talking to her, it helps. Yeah.” Fuck, he’d torn off the bit he was working on. He started on another corner.

“I wonder how he got those burns on his feet.” Ella poked at her phone. “Chloe said he looked like a red, scarred mess for a few minutes when she found him, then the charges started detonating and they were back on that roof, and then he vanished…. Ah, there. Hmm.” She poked some more. “No, there was no sign of fire or anything fire-related on the feathers Chloe gave me to analyze. Gunpowder, blood, yes. Ash and such, no.”

“Charges? As in, explosions? What kind of murder were you investigating?”

“It’s…”

“A long story, I get it.” The priest didn’t have Dan’s qualms, and he opened a second beer for himself. “Still, I’m curious.”

“Did you hear about that building with the gas mains leak?”

“The one that collapsed and burned to the ground?”

“It wasn’t the gas mains. It belonged to a mob boss who was also our lieutenant and also Cain from the bible. He had set up a dead man’s switch, and once he was actually dead, well.”

“Holy… whoa.”

“Yeah. We only found out because one of his people talked. Anyway it was covered up because, well. No one wants to publicize that degree of corruption in the LAPD, and the explosives were rigged to the gas mains, so… not an entire lie.”

“It’s a bit much.”

The tap-tap of stilettos on the wooden floor made them turn to the door. “Oh, believe me, everything is a bit much once Lucifer enters your life. And then after a while it becomes the new normal.”

“Oh hey, Linda!” Ella stood up to hug her. “You’re here!”

“Yep. So you found our resident devil tickling the organ?” She made a face. “I didn’t mean I like that.”

“Have a beer, doctor. Maybe it’ll help.” The priest set a new bottle on the table and shook her hand. “Father Ashura Mwangi, but call me Ash.” Dan had been brought up to call priests by their title and he couldn’t quite drop the ‘father’, but she probably could.

“Linda.”

“The devil’s therapist, I’m told?”

“That’s not even half of it. How are you all?” Dan shrugged. She knew how he was, he’d talked to her a lot last week, after the dust had (literally and figuratively) settled. About Charlotte, about what Chloe had seen, about the broken, bloodied, and yet still faintly glowing proof she’d brought back from the helipad. About Maze’s terrifying demonstration when he still wasn’t convinced, too.

“Well, I washed the feet of Jesus’ brother, so there’s that,” Ella said. “Try something new everyday, you know.”

“I doused the devil in Holy Water and he didn’t even kill me. Or melt away.”

“I didn’t get the donut I was promised,” Dan said. “Or the coffee. Because someone was being a dick, again. And… his eyes. Fuck.”

“Well, at least you didn’t get the full deal with no warning at all. Where is he, now?”

“Still upstairs, I imagine. He looked like he’d gone through hell,” Ella said.

“It’s been hard on all of us. We’re all recovering,” Linda said. It was better than being dead, Dan thought. Right?

“I meant actual hell, but it works too.”

“Chloe said he’d apologized then poofed away, and then he had pretty much disappeared until now. Even his penthouse was locked. That never happens.”

“Why would he go to hell, though? I don’t think he missed it. He kept saying he didn’t want to go back.”

“Remember how he acted when Chloe was with Pierce?”

“Oh yeah!” Ella shook her head. “It was painful to watch. But Chloe was pretty upset after all that happened, and maybe he couldn't take it and he just… fled? What do you think, Linda?”

“Well, as his therapist, I can’t say.”

“Hey, can you hear anything?” Father Ash titled his head, and they all fell quiet. Muffled curses, some dragging sounds that seemed to get closer.

“Zombies?” Ella asked. She didn’t even seem to find the idea implausible.

“Bloody… Ow, dammit, what…” A loud thump like something falling on a door, a rattling noise, and shuffling steps. “Don’t suppose there’s anything stronger than mass wine in this place. Ow.” Finally, the worst bedhead Dan had ever seen, accessorized with bags the size of truck wheels under very, very bleary eyes and a wrinkled shirt with the buttons in the wrong buttonholes, graced the kitchen entrance. “Missed me?”

“No,” Dan said.

“Daniel, you wound me.” Cue dramatic but wobbly pose, and Ella standing up and pushing a chair under him before he toppled for good.

“How are you even walking on those feet? I just removed an entire cup’s worth of gravel from them!”

“Thank you for that, Ms Lopez. Ow, that chair has worse back support than those at the precinct! Ah, Doctor Linda, always a pleasure! So, padre, what about that drink? I found the wine, but it’s really something we’d serve the snotty œnologists who end up in hell and no one else.” He wrinkled his nose like the delicate princess he was, too.

Father Ash wordlessly pushed a beer in his direction, and Dan wondered if that fridge was actually full of beer, and only beer. Well. Not that he disapproved.

“Ah, marginally better. Oh, where are my manners – Lucifer Morningstar, the one and only.” He extended a hand to the priest, who eyed it warily for a moment before shaking it and introducing himself in turn. “Ash, eh. Enjoying SoCal, Ash?”

“Well, I’ve lived here for 20 years and haven’t moved yet.”

“Hm. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you at Lux, you should come one night. We serve much better stuff than this.” He drained his bottle then looked around for more. Was he trying to knock himself out? Wait, no, mass wine and a couple beers wouldn’t do that to him. Or would it?

Ash opened the fridge again but Linda stopped him with a hand on his arm. “No. No more drinking. Lucifer, where have you been? And why are you in such a state?”

“I am dashingly disheveled, my dear doctor, nothing more.”

“You’re delusional, is what you are,” Dan said. “Look, I don’t know what your deal is, but I have other things on my plate than your little – ”

“I just went to hell, Daniel. I wanted to make sure Cain wouldn’t be able to come back.”

“Come back _from the dead_?” Of course zombie-loving Ella would love that.

“Escape _from hell_?”

 _Is Charlotte down there_ , Dan didn’t ask. She had been so scared, so scared of going back. So sure she had been headed there – and now that he’d gotten the entire story of Charlotte Richards, he understood better her night terrors; the nightmares that had plagued her most nights.

“Well, there was that time mum escaped, and that time I took Abel’s soul out for an experiment, so… plausible? Cain’s a wily one, if there was a way he’d find it.”

“Mum… Abel? Abel-Abel?” Father Ash blinked. “This is all… I’m dreaming, right?”

“Assuredly not, father Cinder. Linda darling, I’m afraid you’re going to get another head to untangle, courtesy of the devil himself. Put it on my tab, will you? Quite sure the church doesn’t pay you enough to afford the good doctor.”

“But adding a lock on his cell or whatever can’t have taken a week. I mean… can it?”

“Ms Lopez, ever the curious one, eh?” His voice slowed down a bit, as if the exhaustion visible earlier was finally getting through the manic energy. “Well first, time is different there. It’s been… a good deal longer, for me. So I had plenty of time to do what I needed to.” He paused. “He won’t come back.”

“How could a sinner’s soul escape Satan’s kingdom?”

“When Satan’s not really the king any longer, I’d wager. I _quit_ , padre – but sadly, while it’s a place I could fly away from, it’s also a job that sticks like gum in hair. Even when you don’t have hair.” Lucifer ran a hand through his very much there curls.

“…what?”

“I had to put the fear of me into demons again, is what I did. Some… resisted. I won. End of story.” Lucifer scowled at his empty beer bottle and eyed the fridge with the air of someone in dire need of its contents, yet unable to face standing up and walking to get it.

“Have you eaten anything?” Ella asked.

“Huh?”

“Food. Eaten?”

He shrugged. “Everything’s covered in ash there. It all tastes… ugh.”

Dan studiously didn’t look at Father Ash. “So you’re drinking on a very, very empty stomach?”

“ _Trying_ to drink, Daniel.” He waved his empty bottle. “I’ll have to get back to the penthouse for anything decent.”

“And how are you planning to get there?” Linda asked.

“How do you think I got here, doctor?”

“Not on foot, that’s for sure.”

“I’ll heel, Ms Lopez.” Lucifer looked around. “Heel. Heal. Get it?”

Linda’s face disappeared in her hands. “I am not ready.”

“Well,” Dan said. “You said you flew, right?”

“Detective Espinoza, your memory is better than I thought! Yes, I did.” He even slow-clapped, the jerk. Dan manfully, _coolly_ ignored it.

“Aren’t your…” he didn’t want to say the word, it felt so outlandish. Seriously, _wi_ – no. “Aren’t they too damaged to go anywhere?”

“Well I got here, didn’t I? I’ll get there too.” Manic, tired, pouty, he was going through all the stages of tired-child-won’t-sleep. Dan knew those very, _very_ well.

“Why come here, though? Why not directly to Lux? Your booze, your bed?” Avoidance, looking for something else to distract him, eyes never staying on anything. Fidgety.

“Daniel – ”

“You crash-landed here, didn’t you?”

Lucifer sighed. “Maybe.”

Detective Douche 1, Old Scratch 0. Hah. But seriously, Dan needed a break. He felt like he was stuffed with too much… too much… he wasn’t quite sure if it was too much raging emotion that made him feel numb, or too much numbness that became the constant inner scream that had been battering at him for days.

Thankfully, Linda straightened and decided to take charge. “Okay, so – plan! Here’s a plan. Dan and Ella, you should go back to the precinct, it’s late enough that they’ll start wondering what you got up to. Lucifer, I’ll drive you home, and you will eat and sleep and _not_ drink, and if you try anything I _will_ sic Maze on you.”

“Oh. You’re… better? You and her? Good, that’s good.”

“We are. But she probably still wants to punch you in the face, so if I were you I’d be careful.” He smiled a little. “And then, we’ll talk.”

The smile dropped off. “But…”

“No buts. We’ve all been… yeah. So you all get mandatory sessions, because I say so.”

“And what about you?”

“That’s for me to deal with, Ella. But thank you for your concern. Tribe night soon, yeah?” Linda stood up and turned to Father Ash. “Thank you for your patience, and as Lucifer said you’re welcome to my office.” She handed him her card, and narrowed her eyes at Lucifer.

“Ready?”

Soon after, Linda had maneuvered a sulky Lucifer into her car with Dan’s help (walking was an issue that everyone but Lucifer could see), Father Ash had packed a few donuts for Team Precinct (finally!), and everyone was on their way; leaving a priest all alone with many questions and doubts and damn, now Dan was feeling a bit remorseful (but also donut-ful, which was helping with the guilt but not entirely).

“Hey Ella, should we ask Father Ash out for a drink one of these days? Spill the dirt on Lucifer, kinda thing? I mean, the guy probably needs it, right?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.” She poked him in the shoulder. “See, I told you, he’s a good guy!”

“You promised me coffee, donuts and peace; and I got a drama queen back from hell and beer.”

She had the nerve to chortle at him while stuffing her face with the precious, precious last donut from the box right as they turned the corner to the precinct, and Dan concluded that someone, somewhere, really had it in for him.

 

Linda observed Lucifer whenever she could take her eyes off the road. At every red light, he seemed closer to falling asleep right there and then, his face smooshed on the belt she’d insisted he put on in case they encountered traffic officers. His forehead fell on the glass mid-way to Lux, and his glazed eyes had finally closed by the time she parked under the building.

She cut off the engine and hoped that he wouldn’t sprout wings and wreck her sedan if she shook his shoulder to wake him up. Maybe she could push him out of the car and let him fall to the ground? That would surprise him too, but there was less risk of damage, right? As she pondered her options, he stirred and made a little humming noise.

“We’ve staaahpt?”

“Yes, Lucifer, we’ve stopped. We’re at Lux. Do you have a wheelchair somewhere?” He sniffed, opened his door, put a foot on the concrete, and froze. The muscles in his jaw clearly stood out. “Wheelchair?” She couldn’t take much of his weight, and Dan wasn’t here to help. He sat back into the car, patted his chest, and realized he wasn’t wearing his jacket.

“Oh, bollocks. Left my phone in hell.”

“Who do you want to call?”

“Should be someone at the club already, checking everything is ready for tonight. Just call and let me talk to them.”

She handed him her cell, and a few minutes later a big, burly guy with dark skin and a shaved head she thought usually worked as a bouncer came down to meet them.

“Hey, bossman.”

“Terry! How lucky of me you’re working today! I find myself in a bit of a pickle, and I would like to ask you to – ”

“What Lucifer means is, can you carry him up to the penthouse because he can’t walk.”

Terry looked down at the feet swathed in now dirty bandages, then back at Lucifer’s face, and finally his face split into a wide smile. It reminded her of Amenadiel’s, for a minute. “Can you take a picture while I do the bridal carry?” he asked Linda.

She grinned, Lucifer groaned, and up they went in the elevator. “You want to blackmail me, admit it.”

“Well, I wanted to ask for a few weeks off,” Terry said as he set Lucifer on the couch.

“Your mum’s still sick?”

“She’s better now, but she’s still easily tired; and I hope I could work a bit more on my master’s thesis while I’m there.”

“Oh, fine, fine. Just check with Kelly to see what’s the soonest you can go, all right?” He melted a little into the cushions, and Linda started to scroll through her phone for some food to get delivered.

“Are you all right there, boss?”

Lucifer waved his hand, languid as a lazy king. “Hm. Hey, while you’re up here, have a look at the library, might be some old law stuff you’d find interesting, eh? Jusss… keep it s’long s’you need, k?”

Terry mock-saluted him and went to look at the rows and rows of books. From his surprised but happy mumblings he did find things indeed, and as he left he almost bounced into – or rather, bowled over – the skinny teen who brought up the fancy tapas Lucifer had insisted on.

Linda tipped the kid and watched the elevator doors close on his awed face as he looked around. How had she ended up there? she wondered. How had she ended up with a devil snuffling on the pillow she’d stuffed under his face when he’d started to fall back asleep, Los Angeles lighting up for the night at her feet, an entire weekend of unofficial work and a funeral ahead?

She wasn’t sure she regretted any of it. _Well. Jury’s still out, at least_ , she thought. Eh, no, why pretend? She _didn’t_ regret anything.

 

Something was tickling his nose. He tried to bat whatever it was away from his face, but his arm ended up tangled in – a blanket? – and he kicked his feet and fought the thing and hit a (soft?) wall that shouldn’t have been there and fell on the floor with an oof.

Fine, he’d open his eyes. Any minute now. He was too – no, who was he kidding, this was not comfy at all. It was hard and cold and not his bed, it was… the floor? In front of his couch? What was he doing here? He raised himself on an elbow and tried to kickstart his brain into gear. Not hell, late-morning light, weird socks on his feet, doctor Linda barefoot on the balcony doing strange poses that served no visible purpose. Wait, why was she here? They weren’t sleeping together again, were they? Even when they had she’d never spent the night up at the penthouse… Ah, well. It would all become clear in a moment, he was certain.

Lucifer let the sun shining through the windows finish waking him up. He may have closed his eyes again but it was for a little while. Just a little while. Then he’d stand up and do… things.

“What are you doing on the floor?”

“Mf?”

“Wake up, sleepyhead. Rise and shine! Wait, did you make the sun?”

“Wut.” He rubbed his hands over his face and blinked up Linda’s nostrils. “Huh?”

“Is your floor that comfortable?”

“You’re wearing… leggings?”

“Yes, Lucifer, I am wearing leggings.”

“But… you…”

She sat cross-legged next to his head. “My yoga things were still in my car, so I went down to get them. Your balcony is a lovely place for some morning exercise.”

“Oh.” He sat up and eyed the rolled-up mat by her side. He remembered the Detective hitting someone with a yoga mat. He scratched his chest. That was a good memory. And then a few, more relevant things started to come back to him; hell, Dan’s pinched face, the wide eyes of a Kenyan priest (and his unholy water, damn him), Ms Lopez’s almost over-Lopezness. An organ, beer, and – he lifted the blanket. Yes, bandages. Well, his feet were probably fine now. Shower, food; then he’d feel more like himself. Wait. “I’d offer you breakfast, but I don’t think I have anything fresh here.”

“Way ahead of you here. I got your fridge restocked this morning. How are you feeling?”

Oh no, not right now. Why was she attacking with the big guns right now? “Do we have to do this _now_?”

“Aw, don’t whine, Lucifer! We’re not starting until after we’ve had breakfast.” Her smile looked distinctly perfidious. He narrowed his eyes. “But you are not escaping me.”

“What you, Doctor you or Not-Doctor you?”

“All of the mes.” She poked him in the shoulder. “Go on, you smell rank. I’m taking the guest bathroom, wouldn’t want to cut you off from your hair products.”

The _nerve_.

 

Once clean, shaved, properly groomed and his hair naturally tamed by the sheer power of his will, he followed the smell of (organic, fair trade, _expensive_ ) coffee to his kitchen.

“Linda! I see you’ve made yourself at home.” He smiled at her, easy and light, finally back in tight-fitting clothes. The slight pressure helped him focus, and while he wouldn’t admit it out loud _ever_ , not even to a rage-filled Mazikeen armed with Azrael’s blade, he knew he would need that for the talk ahead. The good doctor had that gleam in her eye, and it didn’t bode well for him – he could tell.

“Well, I don’t need as long as some other people to get ready in the morning.” Who was she talking about? “Tea or coffee?”

“Oh, you know me better than that!”

“Yes, but that’s the choice I’m giving you at the moment.”

“It’s not as if I can get drunk!”

“Why drink then?”

“Well I…” He scowled. “You said, _after_ breakfast.”

“I did. This is me being a good friend, making sure you’re not distracted or using your usual strategies of substance abuse, starting in the morning in the hopes you’ll feel anything by evening. Does it ever work, by the way?”

“I like the taste.”

“You also like tea and coffee, I’ve seen you drink both.”

“With a little extra, yes.”

“And without. So?”

He sighed. “Sencha,” he mumbled.

“See? That wasn’t so hard. Now stop hovering and just sit down.”

“You’re the guest here! Let me – ”

“Nope. Get off those feet and get your butt on that stool asap.”

“Oooh, someone’s bossy today. Lucifer likes!” Prudent, he did as he was told.

“You ain’t seen nuthin’ yet, buddy. And you may not like it anymore in a short while.”

He started to wonder what kind of hole he’d dug himself into. But then again, he supposed he was paying her to dig – no, to help him find how to dig himself out. See? He was learning.

He suffered through his sencha and tried not to let his apprehension show as he demolished quite a few croissants and _pâtisseries_. She seemed to find his enjoyment of proper sweet, buttery, or cream-filled delicacies hilarious. He wondered why, it wasn’t surprising he’d be hungry after a hellish stint.

“You’re humming,” she said. He raised his eyebrows as he licked his chocolatey spoon. So what if he did? “Everyone knows you’ve got the sweetest tooth ever. You don’t even put on weight or risk diabetes or anything, that’s so unfair.”

“You’ll have to take it up with dad. It’s a design flaw. I’m sure he put it there on purpose to torment you.”

“If I ever see him, sure.”

“You will, doctor.”

“Lucifer – ”

“You all will. All of you. I’ll make sure of it.” He frowned. Maybe he’d overeaten, his stomach felt heavy all of a sudden.

“What about you?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. What about you?”

“I am immortal, as you well know.”

“We aren’t. Dan isn’t, Ella isn’t, I’m not. Chloe isn’t.” Lucifer licked his fingertip and started on the crumbs scattered on the table. “Charlotte wasn’t.”

“What do you want me to say, doctor?”

“What happens to you, when we die?”

“I… won’t?” What was her point?

“We are your friends. Your family, here on Earth. And we will die. Leave here.”

“Not anytime soon.”

“Soon enough, from your point of view. What are a few decades for you?”

“I…” They were everything and he’d treasure their memories forever, but he wouldn’t tell her that. “Are _you_ worried, doctor? About death?”

“Of course I am. Of pain, of what happens after, of who I’ll see again or not. How it’s even possible, really – will I meet my mother as she was a teenager? My cousins’ kids as old pensioners? How does it work?”

“I don’t think I can explain it.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to, don’t worry.” She poured herself more coffee, stirred it although she hadn’t added either milk or sugar. “Why did you go to hell after what happened with Chloe and the Lieutenant?”

“I wanted to make sure he’d stay down there.”

“Do you believe he’d have escaped right after arriving there?”

“Oh no, not right away; but better safe than sorry, you know?”

“Of course. But why hurry then? You had enough time to talk with Chloe about what she’d just seen, maybe help with the aftermath of Pierce’s death.”

“His murder. I murdered him.” It’s not like he could escape that truth, was it? Twice in a year, he’d stabbed someone to death. Somehow, even though this time he’d gone against his father’s most stringent law and killed a human, he didn’t feel as bad as – as the first time. Maybe he was getting used to it. Maybe murder was something one could get used to. At least, something the devil could get used to. Huh. His tea was cold and bitter, and he put the mug back on the table.

“Why?”

“He’d have gone after Chloe, after everyone. He knew he was finished, and he wanted revenge.”

“Revenge on Chloe? On you? Why?”

He shrugged. “On the Detectives and Ms Lopez for finding out the truth about Charlotte and his criminal empire, on me for helping them, on Chloe for not marrying him? On me for going back on a deal I’d made with him? Pick one, get the rest as a freebie.”

“And revenge on Chloe for loving you? On you for loving her better than he ever could?” He stared at her. “She told me that’s what she thinks.” Had the coffee gone bad? Was she poisoned?

“She thinks the man she almost married lied to her and killed her friend, and that I… well, she _knows_ now. Not how I would have chosen to tell her, but she knows.”

“And? Isn’t that a good thing?”

“If you’d seen her face then, you’d know it isn’t.” Didn’t Linda remember her own reaction?

“Lucifer, you should talk to her now that you’re back. You might be surprised.” He looked through the window. There were a few clouds in the sky, wispy things that didn’t make any shadows on the ground. “Lucifer. Don’t you start misinterpreting what I’m saying.”

“Do I ever?” he asked the clouds.

She didn’t say anything for a while, and he listened to the quiet. The spoon clicking in her mug, her soft breathing. “Tomorrow is Charlotte’s funeral. We’re all going. I wrote you down the details on your desk.”

“Thank you.”

“We all miss her.”

“Especially poor Daniel.”

“All of us, Lucifer. Including you. It’s okay, we’re grieving.”

“Of course.”

“Lucifer.”

He turned back to her so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. “What?”

“You should come.”

“Why would it matter? She’s dead.”

“Yes, that’s why.” She stood up, and she was short enough that there wasn’t much difference from when she was sitting on the stool. “You need to learn how to process, Lucifer. It’s painful. It won’t get better unless you accept to go through it.”

“Everyone will cry.”

“Yes.” She walked around the table and put a hand on his shoulder. “You can cry too.”

“When I… when I killed Uriel. It didn’t help.”

“You didn’t kill Charlotte, and she wasn’t threatening to kill you or someone you love. It’s more simple grief, here. You need to learn.” She didn’t say _for later_ , but he heard it anyway.

“It’s not simple, it’s _unfair_!” The table rattled under his fist.

“It always is.” She kissed his cheek and left him sitting at his table, with crumbs turning to goo in puddles of cold tea and the ghost of her touch for company.

He still couldn’t bring himself to wish for an easier life, however painful this one could be at times.

 

Chloe had suggested Dan spent the night at her place, and she hadn’t had to insist much. He’d caved in pretty much straight away; it was better than drinking himself into a stupor and not waking up in time for the funeral, right?

Maze hadn’t yet brought her things back to the apartment and was staying go-… _who_ knew where, and that was a relief. He wasn’t sure he could stomach seeing her try and make up with Trixie right now. He had… there was just too much. But being with his baby girl, talking about Charlotte with her and Chloe, remembering… it had helped. A little.

After putting Trixie to bed they talked a little longer, but he didn’t want to think about the following day any more, so they talked about Trix’s future, about what he was doing as union rep, about a book she was reading and his surfing friends… things big and small that were not about the next day.

And then he told her about Lucifer crashing his lunch break, and she looked down at her hands.

“It’s still weird, you know. I was half-expecting it when I went back in but seeing it with my own eyes…”

“Yeah.” Dan hadn’t had the full package, but just the eyes had been enough.

“I don’t know what to think, I don’t even know what I feel, you know?”

“You know what _he_ feels, though. Everybody does.” Lucifer had always been wearing it all on his sleeve, even when he was himself blind to it. Anger, protectiveness, affection, jealousy, despair, need. Love. Dan shook his head, but the thought wouldn’t go away. “Do you think he’ll be there, tomorrow?” Fuck, he hadn’t wanted to think about the funeral and it still had wormed its way back in his head. He fished into his pocket with a sigh and got the bracelet out. He liked toying with it, letting it go through and over and between his fingers like a rosary with one waffle-shaped bead. It was muscle-memory handed down from his _abuela_ , and he wasn’t praying to anyone, but it was just as soothing. Just as comforting.

“I don’t know. His mother had inhabited her body for a while, however that works. I guess there must be feelings there too, for him. Complicated ones.”

“And he’s not the kind to run away from feelings at all.” The little silver waffle glinted in his hand. _Llena eras de gracia, pero ahora la muerte es contigo_ 1. “Although he did give me good advice, with Charlotte.”

“Good relationship advice? Lucifer, our Lucifer?”

“Well, I’m not sure that’s what he was aiming for, but yeah. I owe him that.” He stilled his fingers. “More than that. He saved you, again. I can’t imagine a world without you and Trixie.” His voice broke, and Chloe covered his closed fist with her palm, warm and dry.

“I know. I should talk to him, I just… I don’t know where to start. I mean, a week ago I was about to marry Marcus. And now…”

“What do you want?”

“Hm?”

“What do you want?” Hah. Look at him, Linda-ing Chloe with Lucifer’s own shtick.

“It’s complicated. He is… what he is. Who he is. And I’m… and there’s Trix, and… It’s complicated.”

“It’s really not. Are you afraid?”

“Of him? No.”

“Of what, then?”

“I don’t know. Everything else?” She glanced at the ceiling.

“So, like any other relationship, right?” Her land left his to wrap around the weird-looking necklace Lucifer had given her, but she remained silent. “Look, if I could have had just one more minute with Charlotte… I’d take it, no questions asked. No questions asked.”

“Oh, Dan…” He realized he was crying when she wrapped her arms around him and he felt wetness on her neck.

 

He was on auto-pilot most of the morning. Eat breakfast, shower, get into the car, look at the city float past his window as Chloe drove them to the cemetery. Don’t think. Above all, don’t think.

Her kids were already there with her ex-husband, next to the casket. There was an older couple too, probably her parents. Dan hovered at the back of the depressingly small group of people gathered around a freshly-dug hole in the ground. Had she had so few friends? Maybe, probably, she’d confused them all, from ambitious police officer to cut-throat lawyer, from erratic goddess of creation to suddenly reinventing herself as someone who put criminals _behind_ bars…

Her little boy saw him and waved timidly, and Dan waved back. He didn’t quite feel up to standing next to her children, to the people who’d known her for many years; but then her daughter left the group to come and drag him to the front and he found himself shaking hands and being patted on the shoulder and he knew, he just knew he wouldn’t be able to hold it all in until the end.

Dan couldn’t say if it had been short or long or what the priest had said over that hole. He’d looked down into it for most of it, and time had had no meaning at all. When it was his turn to say his final goodbye, he remembered the bracelet in his pocket, and almost threw it into the hole to sit for ever on the wooden casket; but then he found he couldn’t do it. He took a fistful of loose earth instead and watched it land with a dull thud, and it sounded as if a heavy door was closing and cutting him off from all he’d wanted, all he’d hoped for, with Charlotte. As if the light had suddenly dimmed, as if oxygen had suddenly become scarce.

The mourners started to leave after that, and he finally looked up and around. There at the back, he recognized Ella, Maze – wearing, of course, inappropriate clothes and a stony face – and Linda. And, standing by another grave but close enough to have heard the priest’s words, two people he hadn’t thought would come. Dan headed for them.

“Hey,” he said.

“Daniel.” Lucifer’s eyes were a different kind of red than the last time. Puffier, too.

Amenadiel kept silent but patted his shoulder awkwardly.

“Thank you for coming,” Dan said.

“Well, the good doctor said I should. I still don’t understand why, but I thought…” Lucifer stopped to clear his throat. “My brother has something to tell you. I thought it would be better if it came from him.”

“What?” Dan knew he sounded short, almost rude, but he didn’t have it in him to add niceties.

“Forgive my brother, he means well but…”

“Spit it out, Amenadiel.”

“All right.” He straightened his back and clasped his hands behind himself. “Here it is: Charlotte is in heaven.”

Dan gaped at them. Not what he’d been expecting.

“I found one of that oaf’s feathers right by Charlotte’s body and I knew he’d flown her up.”

“She had nightmares,” Dan whispered.

“Well, Amenadiel made sure her feelings of guilt couldn’t send her straight down to hell, but dad might still have decided differently. So, when I went down myself, I made sure Charlotte wasn’t there; and now…” Lucifer looked at his brother.

“Now, I can tell you she’s at peace. We talked. She’s, well, she’s content.”

“Content? Just… just content?” It didn’t sound that good.

“Come now, Daniel, don’t be dense.” Lucifer’s smirk was all wrong. The guy was fooling no one, maybe not even himself this time. “She’s probably just waiting, for now; but one day you’ll all be reunited. You, Charlotte, her children, the spawn… it’s really a boring place when you’re on your own but I’m sure with the right company it can be bearable.” Amenadiel’s mouth twisted at his brother’s words, but he kept silent. “So, I thought you should know.” Some fidgeting, tugging on his sleeves, eyes wandering. Lucifer was uncomfortable. Why?

And then it dawned on Dan. “And you? What about you?”

“Me?” He raised his chin. “You know the answer, Daniel. You’re not _that_ dumb.”

“Gee, thanks. So, what about you?”

“I don’t – Detective!” And as so often when she appeared, Lucifer’s entire demeanor changed. He… loosened, somehow. Softened. And of course, he forgot everyone around him but Chloe; but this time Dan suspected he was also quite relieved to escape that particular conversation.

“Hi, Lucifer, Amenadiel.” She hardly even looked at them, and Lucifer deflated. Maybe he’d hoped… Well, not maybe. “Dan, can you take my car? Yours is at my place, and Trixie can ride with you or Maze.”

“What about you?”

She looked down and smiled a little. “Well. I have other options.”

Amenadiel looked from her to his brother, then to Dan, then back to her; she narrowed her eyes at him and he widened his and Dan was very confused until Amenadiel clamped a hand around his arm and propelled him towards the parking lot with the inexorability of a tank.

“What…”

“Finally!”

“What?”

Amenadiel stopped. “Look,” he only said. Dan looked, and it hurt a little just as it made him want to smile, too. Chloe had taken Lucifer’s hands in his and he was bending forward, their foreheads almost touching. Dan turned away before he could see them kiss, he wasn’t ready for that. “They’ll be fine,” Amenadiel said.

“But what about death?”

“Death?”

“What happens when we die?” It wouldn’t do for Lucifer to trigger the apocalypse out of despair, would it? “He said we’d all be reunited, but he can’t ever go with her.”

“That’s what he believes.”

“It’s not true?”

“The circumstances in which he became the devil and embraced it… everything’s changed. He’s changed. Well, we all have. Look at Charlotte, look at what she went through and at what she became, in the end.”

Low blow, Amenadiel. Low blow. “I miss her so much.”

“Live your life here, Dan. Live, love. Be at peace. There’s more than enough love to give in each and everyone of you humans. Mourn, meet other people, make new friends, don’t forget the old. It doesn’t matter, in the end. There is no competition. As our father has infinite love for each of his children, you can give all your heart to as many people as you want, in as many ways as you want.”

“Chloe, Trixie, Charlotte…” And someone else, if he wanted to?

“Yes.”

“So what, now you’re at peace with your father? I don’t need to drag you to improv again?”

Amenadiel smiled, wide and bright. “I found my way back. More than back, actually. I am not blinded by jealousy and small-mindedness anymore.”

“I’m happy for you, man.” Ahead of them, Trixie was holding Maze’s hand. Behind him… he couldn't resist a glance, after all. They’d hardly moved, in their own bubble of peace and sunlight. He didn’t feel the jealousy and bitterness he’d expected, after all. “And for them.”

“I am glad to see my brother truly happy, at last. Not confusing drugs or revenge with happiness either. It has been a long wait.” They’d reached Chloe’s car, and Amenadiel held out his hand for the keys. “As I was looking for Luci yesterday, I met a priest who always has coffee, beer and donuts. I think you know him.”

“Father Ash?”

“An Indiana Jones marathon with beers and friends sounds good, doesn’t it?”

A good way to start a new page in his life, yes. Before returning to the dust, he had more story to write in the Book of Dan.

**Author's Note:**

> 1 A twist on the Hail Mary: _you were full of grace, but now you are with death._ back
> 
> Father Ash's name comes from [here](https://www.thenamemeaning.com/ashura/).


End file.
